[Jake.Ashworth]

Chapter 1
She watched through the filthy windows surrounding the enclosed porch as the rickety old pickup made its way up the winding, loose, gravel driveway. A plume of dust kicked up by the tires trailed behind the trailer carrying a beautifully well maintained Harley. She could see a man sitting in the front seat with a large smile on his face. There was a young woman in the passenger seat and two small children in the back with their faces pressed against the window, eyes wide as they took in the view of the house from the car.
The plot of land was rather large, the main house sat at the top of the hill, there was a small house built off to the other side of the driveway that the realtor told everyone was a guest house. On the other side of the guest house was a large red barn, it sat in shambles as no one had used it for its intended purpose in years. At the top of the driveway was a large three car garage and workshop, one of the main reasons Benjamin had wanted to buy this specific house. It had plenty of room for him to work on his bikes and a ton of space for the kids to play.
The woman in the house moved from the porch through the empty house to the front door. She peered through the window at the side of the door wondering how long it would take before it came back and claimed this family.
The young couple climbed out of the car, stretching after the long drive from the city. The moving truck shouldn’t be to far behind and they where anxious to start moving in. The girls ran into the grassy yard and began chasing each other around playing tag.
She watched them play longingly and smiled, it isnt often she gets to smile anymore. Living in this house can be very lonely. Its quiet most of the time, old and creaky all of the time, and never much fun. Only when It came around did it get a little scary, luckily it never seemed to stay for long and she was great at avoiding It.
She had been here for year, way to many to count. She watched families come, grow, and leave. It was difficult not to get attached to the children, they were so beautiful and lively. But inevitably It would come and cause trouble. She might be able to do something about it, help in some way, but she has been terrified of It ever sense the first time it swept through the threshold of the old house and made its presence very clear.
There were no word for what It was. It had no eyes, no mouth, and no real form. The families couldn’t see it just as they couldn’t see her, most of the time. It would come in like a hurricane, Its energy spreading out like the tentacles of a octopus enveloping everything around. She would hide were it wouldn’t be able to find her, knowing that It was leaving a trail of dread and fear in its path.
She would sit huddled in that dark corner waiting for the feeling, the terrible sensation of its presence to seep back out of the house. She wondered why it could leave but she couldn’t. Then carefully and slowly she would come out of her hiding place and survey the damage left in Its wake. It seemed to always instill a terrible fear and paranoia in the family that lived there at the time. They would leave lights on and walk through the house more carefully, listening for any sound that was out of the ordinary. She would watch them slowly dissolve into a shadow of themselves.
At first it would just be small things, the husband would have a few more beers every night, the kids would bicker more often, the wife would spend more time in her room. Then it would evolve into distrust, the husband would start to believe the wife was having an affair, the children would begin hurting each other. Then suddenly things would take a violent turn. The beatings would start, at first he would always apologize but the apologies would dwindle away. The kids would leave in the morning and be gone all day, only returning when the sun was falling behind the trees.
Then the worst part, every single time, one of the children or the only child would vanish. He or she would get up one morning, walk out the door, around the house, past the muddy in ground pool and into the woods and never come back. She always knew when that day had come, she could see it in their eyes. She wanted to badly to grab them, to stop them from leaving. She wanted to chase them into the woods but she could not. She just had to stand by and watch as the family discovered the missing child and subsequently fell apart. It was gut wrenching to watch family after family go through this, but she couldn’t help but be there for it. She had no choice.
Realtors didn’t like coming to show the house. They would normally just send the potential buyer with a key and make up some excuse as to why they couldn’t come to. This time the husband, Benjamin but he went by Ben, came alone to view the house. She knew as soon as she saw him drive his old pickup up the driveway and into the clearing the house sat in, that he and whatever family he has would be the next to move in.
She watched him walk around the outside of the house looking over the stucco outside, inspecting for damages. He walked around the side and looked at the porch, then around to the back of the house. He saw the pool and his eyes lit up. She stood in the sunroom at the back of the house and watched him walk up to the dark water, doubting that the realtor told him that no one had ever been able to get it clean before. He continued his walk around the small house and looked very satisfied. She followed him from the inside, watching as he inspected the pump on the well and peered in through the dirty windows.
There were four ways in and out of the old house. Long ago, when it was first built, slaves lived in the one room “guest house” on the other side of the driveway. They would use the two entrances on the side of the house to be able to tend to the children and get to the kitchen without making their way through the main living quarters, there was a small door that led from the kitchen into the hall with the smaller bedrooms through a closet that would allow the slaves to tend to feeding the children easily. It didn’t seem like that was a well known part of the properties history.
Ben made his way back around to the front of the house. He came up the stairs that led to the front door, searching through his jean pockets for the key the realtor had given him. She stood in the middle of the family room watching as he fumbled with the door handle. Then a loud click and the door swung inward. Ben was a handsome man, this was the first good look she got of him. He stepped inside and looked around the dusty room. He wore dusty black biker boots, jeans that had clearly been worked in a lot and fit snug against his legs. There was a large Harley belt buckle at his waist and an all black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up high. He had a nicely kept beard and long dirty blond hair.
The warmest smile she had ever seen spread across his face as he looked through the family room, through her, and at the large stone fireplace on the far wall that separated the family room from the sunroom on the back of the house. He walked to the left through the large opening into the living room. Windows looked out onto the screened in porch. The room was large and had plenty of space for the kids to play. He walked to the doorway that lead out to the porch and rattled the handle. It was locked, and he didn’t have a key for it.
Next was a doorway that lead off of the living room and into the master bedroom. It was almost the size of the living room and completely surrounded by windows. Ben thought to himself how awesome in would be to sleep almost completely surrounded by nature. You could see the driveway from the windows, the guest house, and the large garage. He stood there quietly taking in the scenery. A deer walked slowly out of the woods and across the lawn into view. He smiled again, that sealed the deal, he loved the house.
He walked back out of the room and, after peaking into the sunroom, he walked by the big fireplace and into the small kitchen. It had a spot for a small fridge on the right and a sink on the left, at the far end of the galley kitchen was a door to the side of the house and next to the refrigerator was another small door. Assuming it was a pantry he walked back out of the kitchen and into the family room. He turned down the hall that held the rest of the bedrooms and stopped in his tracks.
He heard a soft scratching sound. He looked down the hall registering all of the rooms. There where three doors on the left side of the hall and three on the right. At the far end of the hall was another door to the outside. He listened closely as he moved down the hall. The scratching sound grew louder with every step. He stopped at the first door on the left and grabbed the handle. It turned slowly and he pushed the door inward. It was a small closet, about six feet deep and there was another smaller door on the other side of it. He remembered back to the door next to the refrigerator and thought, well isnt that strange.